I wrote this when I was 16. I am now almost 50. I always knew that IT would happen in my lifetime. I really never understood what IT was except that IT was going to be big.
I was raised in a family with 7 kids on just my father’s income so living frugal was ingrained in me. I was recycling and reusing before it was the ‘in’ thing to do because it just made sense. I have always sale shopped and I taught both of my boys to do the same. I always cook from scratch whenever possible.
About 2 years ago, I found a way to work from home because I could feel that IT was getting closer. I guess I have been preparing for IT without even realizing it.
I stumbled upon this site yesterday. I think I finally understand what IT is.
(side note for any professional writers out there - I’m not and I was only 16 when I wrote this so be nice)
Just an Observation
I walk along a lonely road filled with faceless people.
Captivated by the blank stares, I shudder.
Can it be; is all the world so lonely?
They are motionless except for the routines indented on their dreary lives by one world gone bad.
One man follows another.
No longer adhering to right or wrong, just marching behind the next.
Never missing a beat, never reasoning why, never wondering where the path ends.
They are energized by competition; not love of one another.
They are robotized by a mechanical world; fashioned of cement and steel.
Is there not still beauty in the flight of a butterfly?
Or, is that now too simple for a world so filled with complexities in everyday life?
Can one no longer marvel at the beauty of our world's naturalness
Without dismantling it to the point of bare essentials,
And then mar it with man made gadgets just to see what makes it tick?
Man was given the knowledge to make this world a home.
Though not to the point of shielding his eyes, heart, and soul to the needs of his fellow man.
Some may argue; refer to this change as survival instinct.
We are not the lowly cockroach.
We see, we know, and we feel the destructions we have inflicted.
And do nothing to stop it.
One day it will all be finite.
Yet only the precious few will understand;
and still be able to forgive.

